


The Honey Bee and The Oak Tree

by NightAshes



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort fic, Fluff, Hair Dyeing, M/M, Midnight Confessions, anxiety about the future, just a smidge of anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightAshes/pseuds/NightAshes
Summary: Virgil feels like he is stuck in life. His solution... time to dye his hair in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	The Honey Bee and The Oak Tree

In the darkness of the night, the sound of running water can be heard. In the shadows of the kitchen, there stands a silhouette. Hunched over the sink, he sticks his head under the faucet and allows the water to run down his face and mingle with his tears. He cries, gasping for breath as his heart tightens in his chest. Running his fingers through his already soaked locks. He breathes. 

He coughs as the water enters his nose. But he does not care. He wants to tear at his hair. He grips it in his fists. The texture brings him to the present. His neck begins to cramp as the minutes pass in this peculiar stance. But he does not want to leave the water. The coolness of it against his scalp, the feeling of it running through his hands, it calms the inner turmoil bubbling within his soul. 

He breathes.

Turning off the sink, he allows himself to slide away. Lowering himself to the tiled floor below. He buries his face into his arms and allows everything to come spilling out. Gripping his patterned jacket in his fists, he cries into the cloth. Gasping. And thinking. Thinking about the fool that he has been. 

He hasn’t changed at all. He thought he had grown. But he hasn’t. He is still just as clueless as he has always been. But this time there is no safety net. He is no longer just a student, but an adult. And the responsibility is crushing him.

“Virgil?” The voice calls. The voice of the one he loves. And the one that loves him.

“Oh… Virgil.” Patton calls again. Stepping into the kitchen to see the fallen man. His steps echo through the room as he walks towards the hunched figure. 

Patton crouches before him and all Virgil can say is: “Patton, just leave me be.”

“I think someone needs one of my Patton’ed hugs. Can I give you a hug?” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought once I got my degree everything would fall into place. But it hasn’t. I feel like I’m caught in molasses. I keep trying to move forward but I’m just treading in place.”

“It’s okay to not know what to do, love. A lot is changing in your life. But you’ve accomplished something really big. And I’m proud of you.” Patton says, sitting down beside his soaked companion. 

Virgil clenched fists practically shake in anger. “Would you, please, not be so optimistic for one minute! This is the real world, Patton! My degree means nothing. I did all that work for nothing. There's nothing to be proud of. I'm failing!”

Patton bites his lips at the harsh words. “My honey bee, you have quite the stinger.”

“What?” Virgil asks, confused.

“When you are scared, you unleash your stinger to protect yourself, lashing out at others. But it hurts you too.”

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“Some people fear the stinger. And that is how they see you. As something dangerous. But you pollinate the flowers. And you help the world be just a little bit brighter, every single day.”

Virgil rolls his eyes at the flowery language. But he cannot stop himself from listening. 

‘Not everyone can see your worth. Maybe not even yourself.” Patton continues. “After all, you are just one little honey bee. And there are so many others. So many in just your own little hive. But, you are needed. Even if you cannot see it. With your actions, everyday you are helping. Everyday you are trying. And you may not see your growth. But, I promise. You are growing. I wish you could see yourself, the way I see you. See all the reasons that I fell in love with you.”

“I can’t even find a job relevant to my degree.”

“Virgil, your worth is not dependent on your job. You are helping by just being yourself. Just because you aren’t changing the world doesn’t mean that the world isn’t changing because you are here.”

“That… that literally makes no sense.”

“Do you think a honey bee thinks himself significant? What can one honey bee do to change the world? But you impact the world. Everyday, you make waves. Ripples that course through the lives of millions. We are all a part of the world. Not because of our jobs. But because we exist. And we breathe. And we interact. And those interactions change us. You change me.”

“It doesn’t feel like anything is changing...” Virgil leans against his boyfriend, resting his soaking head against Patton’s shoulder.

Patton wraps his arm around his beloved. “Yeah. It can feel like that sometimes. But that’s just because we are too close to see the change. Everyday a tree grows. But to us the tree is unchanging. Because we see it everyday. It is only if we were to go away for years and then come back that we could see how much that tree has changed. You may not see your change. But I promise, you are changing. When I first met you, I was terrified of you. You seemed so scary and angry. But then you became softer. Kinder. You tried your best to listen to others, and to me. And well, I fell for you. I fell really hard.”   
Virgil smiles at his boyfriend. “You were… patient with me. And you were actually interested in my thoughts and feelings. You wanted to hear me speak. I… I fell, too.” He blushes at the admission.

Patton leans in for a kiss. A soft and tender thing. “Can I ask you something, Virgil?’

“Hmmm?” Virgil hums. 

“Why is your hair wet?”

“Oh, I…” Virgil cheeks burn brighter. “I wanted to dye my hair. To feel like I wasn’t the same person. Like I had changed.” Virgil shakes his head. “It’s so dumb.”

Patton smiles. He caresses Virgil’s cheek. “Where’s the dye?”

“Huh?”

“Come on.” Patton stands. Pulling Virgil up with him. “Let’s do this together.”

And together, they dry Virgil’s hair. Together they talk about their past. They laugh at the memories as Patton runs the dye through Virgil’s hair. Combing his gloved fingers through the locks. Spreading out the dye as evenly as he can. Virgil chuckles at Patton’s perspective of their first meeting. Patton giggles at Virgil’s remarks. And Virgil can’t help but to burst out into a big belly laugh when Patton tells pun after pun. 

When the dye is completely applied. They sit there, on top of the kitchen counters, side by side. Patton, having removed his gloves, entangles his fingers with Virgil’s. Their thighs press against each other. And they whisper. As if, worried they might break the silence of the night. 

They whisper about the things they love.

Patton whispers. “I love the way you concentrate when drawing.”

Virgil follows. “I love the fake curse words you always come up with.”

“I love the way you chew on your hoodie strings.”

“I love the way you light up when you see a cute animal.”

“I love the way you stand up for me.”

“I love the way you listen to me.”

On and on.

For the full thirty minutes.

They keep vigil of the night with their gratitudes.

They watch over each other with their blessings.

Chasing away any negative thoughts.

And when the timer beeps. Patton leads Virgil back to the sink. Virgil leans his head under the running faucet once more. The water pouring over his head as his smile lingers. Patton runs his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. Rinsing the dye away. The water, colored teal, falls into the sink. And Patton leans down to kiss the bare neck of his loved one. He giggles as Virgil’s shoulders hunch. 

“Pat, that tickles.”

Once all is said and done. Once his hair is dry again. It is three in the morning. And the two are still sitting in the kitchen, refusing to put an end to their day. They sit on the floor, taking pictures and running their fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“I really like it. It’s actually pretty cool.” 

“It’s beautiful. Just like my honey bee.”

Virgil kisses his beloved. “Not nearly as beautiful as you are, my oak tree.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to leiasolo77 on tumblr for the prompt!


End file.
